A Poem for Good Friday

Inspired by perhaps one of my favorite poems of all time, James Weldon Johnson’s “The Crucifixion”, I wrote a poem this past Good Friday entitled, “Oh Lord, I remember” and wanted to share it with you:

Oh Lord, I remember
The beach that marked the spot,
the spot they called
the Bay of Pigs.

I remember the beach
and how it sparkled,
the sunshine how it glowed,
the water how it lapped
upon the sand.

I took off my shoes
and tucked my socks inside
and ran with light steps
down to the blue water.

I slowed as I approached
the marriage of land and water,
advancing, retreating.

I let the gentle waves
roll over my toes
and then my ankles
and then my calves.

And I thought—
How could a place so Eden-like
be the site of such blood,
be the site of such pain,
of anguish, fear, and death?

Would the water have lapped
red over my toes
and then my ankles
and then my calves?

How could this spot
contain both experiences?
How could it be both
life-giving and life-taking?

Today is Good Friday.
The day we remember
how we marked
your hands and feet,
with nails.
And your head and heart,
with thorns.
And your side,
with spears.

Today is the day
we gambled for your clothing
and shouted crucify.
We traded you in for murderers
and washed our hands of guilt.

Today’s the day when you chose
to be humiliated. (Lost, alone,
despised, unloved, unwanted)
Today’s the day you embraced
our hate. (grief, pride, greed,
anger, abuse, deceit)

And yet, my hike
is filled with not but
sunshine birds
and soft steps.
My heart is light,
thankful.

Tomorrow is not a day of mourning
for I know what comes on Easter morning,
a marriage of love and hope,
advancing, retreating,
but ever-present.

In this place, I hear you whisper
softly in the wind:
“Truly I tell you,
Today you will be with me in Paradise.”